


Love Game: A Tale of Bones

by Stygma



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: American Football, Angst, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, Pining, Reader is a girl, Teenage Sans, Underhigh, mild fantasy bigotry, sports AU, teenage reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stygma/pseuds/Stygma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A geeky reader overcomes her pretentious introvert hangups and ends up dating the school's extremely popular star quarterback (who also happens to be a skeleton). More fluff than anything since characters are teenagers.</p><p>I know nothing about American football.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I'm writing a high school AU now. I am sin.

* * *

Today was a Friday.

Any other week you would have been home by now, maybe curled up with a nice book or playing a new video game, but today you were stuck at school attending a football game that would go until god-knows-how-late this the evening.

You sighed and put a finger in your ear, trying in vain to drown out the sounds of brain-dead cheerleaders as they screamed their heads off for the guys on the field. Ugh. They had no self-respect. You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the fact that most of your classes were giving bonus marks for attending, but you were sincerely regretting it as you looked down at your book and struggled to make it through even a single sentence. The kids beside you on the bleachers were screaming right along with the cheerleaders - didn't anyone see how genuinely stupid sports were? Just a bunch of guys fumbling their balls...

"HEY!"

Someone yelled directly in your ear and you flinched. What now?

You looked over your shoulder and were greeted by the face of an awkward, lanky skeleton. Oh. This kid.

"Hey Papyrus." You tried to shout loud enough over the din for him to hear as he climbed over the back of the row and sat down beside you.

The crowd quieted down as the players on the field went on some sort of break. Was it half-time already? Who could tell. You didn't know anything about football.

At least it was quiet enough to talk now.

"How's it going?" The skeleton asked you. He was in a couple of your AP classes so you had passing acquaintance with him. He wasn't really too smart and was typically at the bottom of all the classes, but he tried hard and always managed to stay afloat in the advanced courses. He also seemed like a nice kid, if you ignored that he tended to speak a little too loud sometimes.

"Alright, I guess. I can't even hear myself think over this noise though - can you believe we even came to this dumb thing?" You gestured to the field, looking for some geeky kinship. Papyrus averted his eyes.

"I always come to the games," he said sheepishly.

"Oh... right." You looked down at the player's bench where another, smaller skeleton was toweling off his brow and gulping down a Gatorade. "Your brother."

"Yeah. Nyeh-heh." His cheekbones tinted orange with embarrassment. "HEY SANS!"

The skeleton on the bench lifted his head in your and Papyrus' direction as Papyrus waved a boney hand enthusiastically. Sans smiled wide and bright when he saw his brother and gave a cocky wink and a salute with the hand that held his towel. Why was your face hot?

You grunted indifferently.

"Are they winning?"

"Yes, but only by a little. The game could still go either way. Sans seems confident, though. I believe in him."

That guy always seems confident, you thought. You watched as he jogged back onto the field, slipping his helmet on as he went. He was just like every other jock, arrogant, stupid, head inflated from all the empty praise of the teachers and students that drastically overvalued this dumb game.

"Why is your face all scrunched up like that?"

You realized Papyrus was staring at you.

"Oh, sorry... No reason." You closed your book. The crowd was starting up again and there was no way you'd be able to get any reading done.

“Hm.” Papyrus looked back out at the field. “So, any plans for the Science Fair?”

“Oh.” Here was a topic you actually cared about. “I haven’t given it a whole lot of thought yet. We still have over a month… I just know I’ll throw up if I see one more baking soda volcano or green beans grown with classical music…”

Papyrus chuckled.

“Yeah, that would be dumb.”

“What about you?”

“Uh… I was thinking maybe testing out different types of organic water filters? I don’t know…” He rubbed the back of his skull.

“Cool,” you said. It wasn’t really that cool.

You and Papyrus chatted idly about your classes in between plays. Whenever the crowd cheered too loud for you to talk you were forced to turn your attention to the game… You just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like they were resetting their positions every couple of seconds, and the outfits… that butt padding was ridiculous, c’mon.

Papyrus patted your arm excitedly.

“Oh, oh, Sans is going for it. We might win!” You looked down, startled by Papyrus’ jostling, and saw the small skeleton powering through the field, ball tucked protectively under his arm. He _was_ fast.

Sans was nearing the end of the field. Papyrus was practically jumping out of his seat, a hyperactive blur of orange hoodie and cargo pants.

“GO BROTHER!!”

You watched as some poor kid flew at Sans and got a face full of dirt as Sans rocketed straight past him and into the endzone.

The crowd shrieked into your ear.

“He did it! That’s six points, we won!” Papyrus clung to you excitedly. Sans spiked the ball violently into the dirt, pumped up on adrenaline and testosterone.

Surrounded by rabid kids and adults, you wondered if you were the only sane person left.

The players reset, the crowd still going wild. Sans sauntered back up the field with a smarmy look on his face and took position with the other players.

“I don’t get it,” you shouted. “If we won, why are they still playing?”

“It’s just something you have to do after a touchdown!”

Oh. Okay.

The ref handed Sans the ball and Sans looked up at you - or, no, probably at his brother, right? - and a devilish grin spread across his face. Then he cracked his neckbones and on the signal of the ref, punted the ball full force, sending it sailing through the goal posts.

* * *

 Sans came and found you and Papyrus as you were collecting your things to leave and casually leaned an arm against his seated brother. It was kind of comical - the short skeleton would never be able to treat his brother like an armrest if they were both standing at full height.

“Sans! You were great!”

Sans grinned lazily.

“Thanks, bro.” His eyes glanced over to you. “Who’s your girlfriend?”

“S-she’s not my girlfriend!” Papyrus turned bright orange.

“Oh? ...Good to hear it.” He cocked a browbone, his eyes half-lidded. “You like that final PAT, babe?”

“That what? Oh, the kick? It was fine.”

Sans’ browbones raised, momentarily bewildered by your lack of praise before regaining his air of confidence.

“Heh, not a football fan, eh? That’s alright,” he pushed off Papyrus slightly, “I can make you one.”

“Uh, that’s alright.” You slipped your arms through the sleeves of your coat, holding your book to your chest.” You craned your neck around Sans so you could make eye contact with Papyrus. “I’ll see you in class.”

Sans leaned forward into the space between you and Papyrus, blocking your view and bringing your faces uncomfortably close. His brow still glistened with sweat and his broad uniformed shoulders filled your vision.

“You want a ride home?”

You flicked your eyes up and down him and scrunched up your nose.

“No. Goodbye.” You turned to leave.

“You always do that... It’s my car, brother,” you heard Papyrus mumble behind you as you left.

“Heh, details.”

What an ass.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like you have a new admirer.

* * *

 

The next Monday when you came in for AP Science Friday's game the farthest thing from your mind. You would be doing some advanced chemistry today and were looking forward to it when someone sat down next to you.

“Oh, hey Papyrus.”

Papyrus rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hi [y/n]. How was your weekend?”

“Great. I got a _ton_ of work done.”

Papyrus glanced over at the notes you had on your desk. He seemed impressed.

“Wowie, you even managed to do the extra curricular sheets. You’re _way_ ahead.”

If you looked pleased with yourself, it was probably because you were.

“How about you?”

“Uh, the weekend was good, pretty good, nyeh.”

Papyrus didn’t usually sit next to you - no one did, for that matter. You had kind of a reputation for being an ice queen, not that you minded. You’d always secretly (or not so secretly) known you were better than everyone, smarter and more mature than the other girls, nevermind the boys. Still, it made you wonder why Papyrus had chosen this seat today. You hoped he wasn’t going to confess his love for you.

“So, listen, um, I wanted to let you know…”

Oh no. Seriously?

“Sans hasn’t stopped talking about you since Friday… he usually only does that when he’s, uh, planning one of his… ‘conquests’? I guess you could call them… Anyway, I know that’s not really your thing so I just wanted to give you a heads up. He's not dangerous or anything, he can go a bit, uh, overboard.”

What? Sans?

You barely even remembered talking to him. Why would he still be dwelling on your interaction at the game?

“Um.. okay,” was all you could manage.

“Yeah. I can usually handle him though, so if he gets a little too obnoxious just, uh, find me I guess. I’m around.”

You opened your textbook. You didn’t have time for this kind of nonsense.

“Thanks Papyrus.”

“Yeah. Nyeh heh.” He didn't talk to you for the rest of class.

* * *

 

You were lucky at lunch today and had managed to snag a whole table to yourself before the rest of the kids stampeded in to the cafeteria. You liked to spread your things out and work while you ate, and even though you knew the other kids were annoyed when you hogged a table, none of them ever had the guts to confront you about it… which was just fine with you.

You looked over to where the cheerleaders were congregating at another table. A slim girl, Jessica was putting braids in the hair of Muffet, the head cheerleader. A third girl tittered away beside them obnoxiously. It wasn't long before the football team joined them, jostling each other roughly and making crude jokes.

You opened your textbook with a scowl.

_“Hey.”_

A deep voice came from right behind your ear.

You jumped, startled, then made a face of disgust.

Sans’ arm was on the back of your chair and his face was leaned deeply over your shoulder, the strong smell of leather from his letterman jacket filling your nose. His shoulders looked surprisingly more slender outside of his football get up - when did he even get here?

“What do _you_ want?”

“I just wanted to say ‘hi’. It’s been awhile since we talked.”

“I wouldn't call three days 'awhile'.”

“Ah, so you’ve been counting.”

“Ugh,” you made a noise of offense as Sans’ eye glinted. You could tell he knew he had a charming smile and it infuriated you how transparently he tried to take advantage of it.

“Hey, c’mon now, kid. Don’t give me the _cold shoulder_ ,” he gave you a little playpunch on the arm he was leaning over.

“Don’t call me ‘kid’. We’re the same age.”

“How do you know? I'm a monster, I could be a hundred for all you know.”

Could monsters really live that long? You weren’t actually sure. They’d only come to the surface about five years ago and you hadn’t learned nearly as much as you should have. You made a note to add the subject to your study schedule, but played it safe so you didn’t look ignorant.

“Are you?” You said, as inoffensively as possible.

“ _Snrk,_ no. I'm 17.” He looked like he couldn’t believe you’d fallen for it.

You hoped the flush of humiliation on your face wasn’t visible. Ugh, you couldn't believe you'd let him mess with you - serves you right for entertaining him. You needed to cut this interaction short.

“Right... Well if you don’t mind taking your hand off my chair now, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Why don’t you head back over to your fellow meatheads and bother _them_ instead?”

Sans closed his eyes lazily, grinning.

“If that’s what you want, ice princess.” You felt his arm snake away off your chair as he buried his hands in his pockets. You sighed in relief.

“But,” he turned back to you, “you might wanna think of another insult.” He rapped a hand on his skull with a resounding _clunk_. “'Meathead' rings a bit _hollow_. I'd suggest ‘numbskull’ instead.” He winked at you as swivelled lightly on his heel to rejoin his clique.

You stared after him for a moment as he chatted up a few monster cheerleaders, then your face contorted. _What an annoying guy._

You turned back to your work… it all looked like nonsense suddenly. Why were you suddenly having such difficulty concentrating? You made another note to pack more almonds for tomorrow. Brainfood, all you needed. A little brainfood.

* * *

 

Your final class of the day was psychology. You were glad to have something a little more intellectual to end the day off with. You’d had a few, well, annoying interactions and needed to wind down.

You’d never admit it but part of the reason you looked forward to psychology was that it was one of the few classes you shared with Shane Miller, a dark haired, dark eyed boy you had to admit you kind of admired. The only reason you weren’t in more classes together was because he had completed almost all of his senior courses over the summer, allowing him more time to work this year before heading off to what would undoubted be an Ivy League college. He may even be smarter than you, if that were possible.

He was already sitting in his usual spot when you entered the classroom. You smiled to yourself as you slide into the seat next to him. Early as usual.

“Hey Shane.”

“Hey [y/n]. How’s it going?”

“Hm, better now,” you sighed. You thought you saw him smile a little bit at that.

“Bad day?”

“Not too terrible. I do wish you were around campus a little more though. I could use the backup.” You tapped your pencil idly against the desk.

Shane was everything you valued - he listened to classical music, rejected fashion trends, studied hard and took the world seriously. Mature friends were few and far between in high school. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and laughed.

“Let’s just say I’m looking forward to college and being surrounded by peers for once.”

“You know, a lot of these idiots get into schools on sports scholarships… plus a ton of them have family connections. We’ll probably be seeing a few familiar faces no matter where we go.”

Oh. You hadn’t thought of that. Your face puckered like you’d eaten something sour, thinking about spending the next four years of your life with the same kinds of people.

“We’ll probably be stuck with them for life,” he continued.

“Yeah… but at least after college it’ll only be as their bosses.”

Shane laughed maliciously.

“[y/n], you’re terrible!”

You grinned back at him.

The two of you finished your work early as usual and spent the rest of the hour making fun of the outdated information in the psychology textbook. Freud was still in these textbooks? More like Fraud. Oh good, that got a laugh.

You were smiling by the end of the period. As you packed away your pencils, Shane scribbled something out on a piece of paper and ripped it off, handing it to you.

“It seems a shame that I only see you a couple times a week, [y/n] Why don’t you take my phone number, in case you ever want to study or something?”

You looked down at the number and blinked.

“Yeah, thanks Shane… I’ll see you later.”

* * *

 

The glint of a huge football trophy caught your eye from the locked cabinet in the foyer as you made your way out the door. You looked around then crossed over to it. Behind the display of school trophies was a blue and white banner with a cartoon horse snorting smoke out its nostrils… the mascot for the Southfield Stallions. You noticed the trophy that had caught your attention had a number of little gold plates with names engraved on them at the base… “Shawn Thompson, Jian Chan, Samuel Gregory, Sans…” Ugh, what? He didn’t even have a last name? God, what was with that guy…

The whole display seemed suddenly, overwhelmingly childish to you… shiny trophies, cartoon horses. You stared at that name, Sans, _Sans_ … _Ugh._ You upturned your nose and walked briskly out of the foyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They both have some growing up to do, lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're getting to be pretty good pals with a tall skeleton

* * *

 

Tuesday morning you had another block of AP Science and were pleasantly surprised when Papyrus sat next to you again. He didn’t even seem to have an agenda this time, he was just a friendly guy. You were kind of bad at making conversation, but Papyrus was nice enough to ask you little questions about yourself once the instructor set you to independent work and it was a lot easier to talk about yourself, you found. You knew the subject pretty well.

The more you spoke with the shy skeleton the more you came to appreciate how hard he worked at his classes. It was actually kind of admirable. You wished the rest of the school would put even half as much effort into bettering themselves - it would make the Southfield a lot more tolerable. You wondered what it was that drove Papyrus so hard - not a lot of average kids you knew wanted to push themselves past their limits.

You had completed your worksheet almost fifteen minutes ago and were still blithely talking away when you realized Papyrus had his hands on either side of his skull and was staring down at the tenth question.

“Hey, Papyrus, do you want some help with that?”

He was practically chewing the end off his pencil.

“Hm? Oh, nyeh, uh… yes actually, if you don’t mind. I can’t seem to wrap my head around these any of these gas law calculations.”

“It’s not too tough, see, if you -”

You had barely begun to lean over to help when class ended. The teacher wiped down the notes on the board, and you knew both you and Papyrus had to get to your next classes.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out when I get home.” Papyrus waved you off, but he looked miserable.

You were surprised just how compelled you felt to help him - and you couldn’t really object to making time for him, if it was school-related.

“Hey, would you want to meet up after school and go over this? Like you said, I’m way ahead in this class, so I can spare the time.”

“Oh, really, [y/n]? I would really appreciate that… my brother never seems to have time to help me with these things anymore, and it takes much longer on my own.”

You involuntarily snorted. How would _Sans_ help with Papyrus’ AP Science homework? It wasn't like you could tackle an equation into submission.

“Of course, Papyrus. My locker is 112 in the basement, you can meet me there after school.”

Papyrus’ face brightened. You gathered up your things and walked down the hall together until you had to part ways. What a nice kid.

* * *

 

After school you made your way down to your locker, hoping Papyrus would be punctual so you could get a move on. You didn’t have anywhere to be, you just generally despised wasting time.

You closed your eyes and leaned you head back against the locker while you waited. Then your blood chilled when you heard a familiar chuckle from down the hallway.

_“Heh heh heh…”_

Oh no.

You opened your eyes to see Sans waving goodbye to some of his clique. Of course. You hadn’t seen him all day, _of course_ you would bump into him while you were waiting for someone and couldn’t leave. Ugh. Maybe he wouldn’t see you.

Nope, he saw you.

Dammit. Now he was coming this way, a huge grin on his face. He was out of his letterman jacket today, wearing a casual black tee and you were surprised - you thought that stupid jacket was attached to him at the bone.

You groaned as he got closer.

“Can’t you just leave me _alone_? What could you possibly want now?”

His grin only widened as he walked straight past you… and started fiddling with the locker beside yours.

“Just wanted to get my shit,” he looked at you from the corner of his eyesockets, clearly amused. “Not everything is about you you know, ice princess.”

Oh.

“Hmph.” You turned your nose in the other direction, refusing to look at him. Your cheeks prickled.

He opened his locker and took out his letterman jacket, slipping it easily over his shoulders. Ah, you should have known. He was probably having withdrawals without that damn thing.

Hm.

It was kind of funny how that jacket could instantly make him look older…

He closed the locker door and leaned against it, his attention suddenly turned to you.

“So what are you doing here? I never see you in the basement.”

“I never keep things in my locker. I’m just meeting a friend.”

Sans flashed one of his blinding smiles. You wished he wouldn’t do that.

“Oh, so this is your locker, eh?” His eyes narrowed mischievously and he shot you a wink, knocking on it with his hand. “You should come by more often.”

Now he had that stupid lazy expression on his face again.

You caught sight of a blur of orange down the hallway and felt a wave of relief wash through you.

“So who’s your friend?" Sans continued, although your attention was on the kid in orange. "No one I would be jealous of, I hope.”

“Hm, I hope,” you answered and waved out over the crowd to catch Papyrus’ attention. He smiled happily and quickened his pace toward you.

You secretly relished the look of surprise on Sans’ face as his brother jogged up.

“Hey, brother!” Papyrus looked to you. “[y/n], are you ready to go? We can head to my house if you want, my mother will have no problem with it.”

You smiled genuinely.

“Yep, ready when you are Papyrus.”

Sans suddenly let out a loud, hard chuckle.

“Heh heh heh, ice princess! Using my brother to get to me, eh? I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Sans bopped you on the shoulder and your spine straightened in shock and incredulity.

Meanwhile Papyrus’ face dropped and he looked at you. You were fuming - how _dare_ Sans?

Sans’ waggled his browbones at his brother. “You’re not breaking the _bro code_ on me, are you, Paps?” He grinned and shrugged. “Although I can’t complain if it gets her to come over.”

“B-brother…”

“On second thought,” you interrupted, grabbing the sleeve of Papyrus’ hoodie and shooting a pointed look at Sans, “why don’t we go to _my_ place, Papyrus?”

You saw Sans’ smile drop for the first time since you’d met him as you tugged Papyrus away behind you, stomping down the hall. Your short figure probably looked funny leading away an almost six foot tall skeleton like a lost child, but you didn’t care. You wanted out of there as quick as possible.

* * *

 

You let out a sigh of relief when you and Papyrus were far enough away to relax. Sans apparently wasn’t going to follow you.

It was a pretty nice day out and you sighed out the last of the tension. Things were starting to look up a little.

“Thanks for that, [y/n],” Papyrus started, “g-girls have… uh… done that before.”

“Done what?”

He looked like he was having trouble with the words.

“Um, you know… tried to get to my brother through me," he paused. "Nyeh heh... I was a little worried.”

You scrunched up your face.

“That’s infantile. I can’t stand,” you let out a noise of frustration, _“jerks.”_

Papyrus seemed to pick up on the fact that you were talking about his brother. He rubbed the back of his head.

“Uh, [y/n], Sans isn’t, uh, such a bad guy you know.” He kicked a pebble as he walked. It was funny to see such a large kid with so little confidence - he must be constantly self-conscious of how tall he was, you thought, since he always kept him limbs tucked close to his body and slouched constantly, as if that would make him look smaller. It didn’t work, poor guy.

“Hmph.”

“I mean, I think he’s, uh, still got some issues. You know, from the Underground? Uh…” Papyrus rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “I’ve tried to get him to go to the school counselor before, but he always says it would be bad for his image.”

Papyrus sighed.

You thought he was much too good for his brother - Sans had _issues_ alright, you thought. You nodded your head down a side street.

“Here’s my place.”

* * *

 

You mom was overjoyed to see you bring a friend home and made sure to load you down with snacks when you both dropped your bags in the kitchen. She made you promise to keep the door to your room open though, which confused Papyrus.

“Why can’t you close the door to your own room?” He wondered aloud.

“She doesn’t want me to have boys in there. She thinks we’re gonna make out or something.”

“O-oh!” Papyrus spluttered, turning bright orange. Whoops. You hoped you hadn’t given him the wrong idea.

When you got to your room you laid on the bed and Papyrus laid on the floor. It didn’t take you long to finish off the worksheet and Papyrus got the hang of the calculations once he had someone sit him down one-on-one and explain them, so the rest of the afternoon just turned into an impromptu hangout sesh. You were surprised how easy it was to get along with Papyrus, and felt like maybe you could understand why people enjoyed hanging out with friends outside of school. Paps - that’s what his brother had called him, right? - seemed to be really into action figures when he wasn’t studying, and you couldn’t help but laugh at what a huge nerd he was.

Eventually your mom came up to ask if he was staying for dinner and Papyrus decided he needed to get home so his mom wouldn’t worry. You said your goodbyes and as Paps headed down the driveway your mom nudged you.

“He’s cu~te,” she said in a singsong voice.

**_“Mom.”_ **

“What?”

Ugh. You escaped back up to your room.

* * *

 

You didn’t have much else to work on today, so you flopped down on your bed lazily. Having such a good experience studying with Papyrus had boosted your confidence a little, so when your finger brushed against the number in your pocket that Shane had given you, you curiously took it out and punched it into your phone.

Hm. What should you say?

[y/n]  
Hey Shane. It’s [y/n]. What’s up?

You fiddled with your phone while you waited for him to respond. Oh man, your contacts looked pretty bare. Just your mom and a cab company.

It was weird that that suddenly made you feel… sort of sad?

Shane  
Hey [y/n], what's up?

[y/n]  
Nothin' much. Good day?

Shane  
Not bad. You?

Shane  
I guess I already asked that, lol.

Shane  
Hey, you wanna hang out this week? I just got a new microscope to check out some bacterial pond samples you might think are pretty cool.

Did a guy just invite you to look at pond scum? Was that good?

[y/n]  
Sure Shane, that sounds cool.

Shane  
Awesome, I'll text you when I know my work schedule.

You sent him a little thumbs up emoticon. Huh. That was two social interactions you'd orchestrated in one day.

It was kind of fun.

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans might be... *falling* for you

* * *

Wednesday morning was grey and dreary, right on the border of rain. It figured that today you’d have gym class, which even under ideal circumstances was one of your least favourite “subjects”, but today you were extra "excited" seeing as you'd be running track outside in the cold.

Changing in the girls’ locker room always made you incredibly uncomfortable and you hated when you weren’t able to snag one of the stalls. Muffet and the other cheerleaders had no trouble changing in front of each other - how did they do that? Was it just part of the confidence of being a cheerleader? It seemed like there was also some sort of unspoken female camaraderie you didn’t understand between them, too. Whatever it was, you knew you'd never be that comfortable.

A couple of awkward monster girls had already taken the only two changing stalls, so you backed yourself into a corner between some lockers and hoped no one would watch as you swapped out your jeans for a pair of running shorts. The school’s running uniform was extremely short and strangely cut, and it had the peculiar quality of transforming girls into either chic, perky joggers or dowdy looking slobs. You think you had a pretty good idea of which category you fell into.

You thought you could feel Muffet’s many eyes on you as she laughed into the back of her hand with her friends. Why was she looking at you? You thought you saw the sparkle of malice in her eyes, but you couldn’t be sure. You just wished you were wearing your own clothes.

* * *

Ms. Undyne was already waiting for you when you and the other kids made it out onto the field. She was a tough lady - she’d overcome the initial prejudice against monster teachers only to then get slapped with stereotypes about lesbian gym teachers. None of it ever seemed to get to her, though, any hurtful words always drowned out by her bottomless enthusiasm (and her intimidating stature probably didn’t hurt either). You really liked Ms. Undyne as a person, but _god_ did you hate her as a teacher. She was crazy intense and always drove you way too hard. You never worked out of your own volition outside of school though, so you probably had her to thank for the fact that you were in any sort of shape at all.

You tried to hold on to that thought as you started the first of your thirty full laps around the huge track while Undyne grinned deviously, barking “encouragement” at you and the other girls.

By the third lap you were already panting hard, the cold air burning your lungs and the muscles of your legs on fire. You fuelled yourself with your anger, cursing under your breath and concentrating on your each step, trying to keep up as Muffet and the cheerleaders practically ran circles around you.

On the fourth lap the other girls were starting to whisper between breathes and you wondered what was getting their attention when you suddenly heard the loud rattling of the chainlink fence around the field. You slowed slightly and saw to your horror that Sans and his jock buddy Aaron had jumped up on the fence and were hanging over the top of it, watching the girls.

“Lookin’ good ladies!” Sans yelled, pulling a lit cigarette from between his teeth. Was that weed or tobacco? Some of the girls giggled, other put on faces of mock offense. Aaron hooted at class, practically animalistic.

You saw Sans and Aaron nudge each other conspiratorially, then Aaron leaned further over the fence and shouted full volume.

“HEY [Y/N], SANS WANTS TO BONE YOU!”

You heard some girls gasp as Sans turned blue and punched Aaron in the ear. Everyone had stopped running, and some of the girls were staring at you.

If it were any other time you would have been furious and screamed right back, but right now you were gross and sweaty and your shorts were way too small... You felt exposed and vulnerable with everyone looking at you.

Your stomach knotted up as you realized your eyes were stinging. Suddenly a light blue glow shined from behind you and some part of you registered Sans’ eyes going dark before him and Aaron practically tripped over each other as they ran off. Huh?

You turned around and -

_Oh._

Miss Undyne was towering over you, her face twisted maniacally and an assortment of sharp looking magical spears arranged in a semicircle at her back.

No wonder those numbskulls had booked it. Her teeth looked _sharp._

 ** _“I’M SURE YOUR MOTHER WILL LOVE TO HEAR HOW YOU JOINED OUR CLASS TODAY, SANS!”_** She bellowed out after the scrambling boys.

Sans and Aaron disappeared out of sight, nothing left but the smoking cigarette they’d left in their wake.

“Punks,” Miss Undyne muttered. “Pick up the pace, girls, time’s wasting!”

The other girls started running again. Muffet stared at you a moment longer before rejoining her friends - what was that look? Sympathy? Jealousy?

Undyne put a clawed hand on your shoulder gently.

“Hey, you okay [y/n]? I’ll be speaking to their mothers about their behaviour today. Would you like to sit out the rest of class?”

Miss Undyne was so nice.

“N-no… that’s okay.”

You opted to power through the rest of class, but you never quite got back up past a half-hearted jog. You wouldn't let a little embarrassment ruin your day...

* * *

No one bothered you at lunch that day. You didn’t even see Sans again until you were walking toward fourth period English and passed by the principal’s office - Sans was sitting slouched in one of the folding chairs in the waiting area. He looked ashamed when he caught your eye and turned his face away and… tinged blue?

Whatever.

* * *

You were in kind of a bad mood when you slung your backpack over your shoulder to head home at the end of the day. It was all you could do to keep from yelling when a ball of blue and white letterman jacket sauntered up beside you.

“Hey hey, ice princess.”

You swallowed your anger with a sigh.

“Not now, Sans.”

“Hm, I like that. You should say my name more often.”

You quickened your pace, trying to leave him behind.

“Hey, wait,” he hopped up and laid his hand on your shoulder. "Slow down, princess."

“Don’t _touch_ me,” you swiveled around and looked him straight in the eye, surprising him into silence. You stared coldly through him until you were sure you'd scared the arrogance out of him, then walked away.

You’d thought (hoped) you’d left him behind, until you heard a strange _VOIP_ sound and suddenly felt a breeze over your shoulder, realizing he’d popped magically in to the air beside you. He was teleporting now?

What a cocky jerk.

“Aw man, you’re not still mad about this morning are you? That wasn’t my fault, if anything you should be mad at Aaron.”

“Why are you so intent on bothering me, Sans? You could have any girl in the school.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t want just any girl.” Oh please.

“Ugh. Does that work on people?”

Sans shrugged.

"Well maybe you should try wanting a girl who wants you back."

You never slowed, hoping Sans would eventually get the hint.

_Voip._

“[y/n], look, I’m sorry.”

He scratched his head. "Really. It was, uh... mean."

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I don’t remember agreeing to let you walk me home.”

Sans grinned, but it looked more forced than usual.

“Walk you home? Nah, that’s apparently what Papyrus is for. I just happen to be going this way.” Sans pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and fell behind you as he stopped to light it. What bullshit.

_Voip._

**_Ugh._ **

“Jeez, [y/n], aren’t you at least a little freaked out?” He let out a little puff of smoke. _Voip._ “That’s half the fun of using magic in front of human girls.”

“I know magic is all about intent. You can’t hurt me with it unless you want to, and since you’re _hitting on me insufferably_ , I’m guessing that’s not the case.”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“I see someone’s been reading up on monsters since our last little chat. Did something pique your interest?”

You face went hot.

You tried not to watch as his feet lifted up off the ground and Sans floated almost completely horizontal next to you, his head relaxedly supported by one arm, the other resting on his hip.

“That’s so freaky how you do that," he said. "What is that? Like, you got veins full of blood or something, right?”

You realized he was closely studying your blushing cheeks. The second flush of anger just made your face burn brighter.

“Man that’s weird. I’ll never get tired of that.”

He floated onto his back and closed his eyes, effortlessly keeping up with you. It was really starting to get on your nerves.

“Sans, if you can _float_ , why do you even bother walking?” You spat out the word “float” like it was a curse.

He looked a little embarrassed. Could this jerk even be embarrassed? You were pretty sure he had no shame.

“Uh, it’s… kind of hard actually. I only pull this trick out to impress pretty girls.” You’d thrown him off by calling him out and he wobbled slightly. You realized now he was sweating a bit. For the first time you got the inkling that Sans’ effortless confidence was actually not too effortless at all. He was trying _really_ hard.

“Hm, well, I’ll let you know if I see one.”

He floated around in front of you, stopping you short.

“Hey, whattya mean by that? You don’t think you’re pretty?”

You rolled your eyes and walked around him.

“Hey!” He followed after.

“Don’t do that,” you said. “That knight-in-shining-armour stuff. No girl needs that… _crap_. My self esteem is just fine without your interference, thanks.”

“Aw, wait, jeez, I didn’t mean it like that I just think you're cu-”

Suddenly Sans’ eyesockets went wide and the lights in them flickered. The magic glowing around him suddenly cut out and he faceplanted straight into the ground with a sickening _crack_.

You stared at him a moment, dumbfounded. He groaned and put his hands to his skull. He'd be fine. You blinked, then kept walking.

“Ugh…” you heard him moan behind you.

You tried to keep walking, but…

Dammit.

A conscience was a terrible thing.

You stomped back over to him, thoroughly annoyed, leaning over the pathetic sack of bones with your hands on your hips.

“Are you okay?” You asked. It sounded more like an accusation coming out of your mouth than a question of concern.

“Nnngh… Jeez, I was floating right next to your face… that’s like a five foot drop…” He rubbed his head. “I’m lucky you’re short.”

Well, his dumb mouth still worked.

You clenched and unclenched your fists. You could be home by now if not for this interruption. Sans turned his head just in time to see you furiously thrust your hand out to him, refusing to look at him. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Thanks…”

You felt his boney fingers slip into yours and hoisted backwards to help him up.

When you finally looked at him you noticed he had a little crack running down the middle of his forehead.

“Oh, your face.”

You realized his eyes were trained on you and blindingly bright.

Oh no. Was this going to be some sort of moment?

You peeled away and kept walking, but gestured behind you so he knew he could follow.

“Are you gonna be alright? What happened there?”

Sans coughed and wouldn’t look at you.

“Uh… T-toriel says I’m still growing into my magic.”

“Toriel?”

“My… mom? I guess?”

“The principal is your mom?”

“You didn’t know?”

You shrugged. You didn’t really pay that much attention to other people. So when Sans was waiting in the principal's office, he was just in trouble with his mom?

Sans rubbed his head and then stuck his hands in his pockets.

“So, uh, you wanna go out with me?”

What.

“Really? You’re doing that now?” You were deadly seriously.

“What? Did I read that wrong?” He motioned a thumb back in the direction where he’d fallen.

You rolled your eyes. You could see your house - thank god.

“Goodbye, Sans.” That idiot followed you all the way up to your doorstep.

“Wait a sec, [y/n]!”

“Thank-you _so_ much for walking me home.” You slammed the door right in his face, and you couldn’t exactly say you felt bad about it.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating from Mature to Teen and Up because I realized nothing mature is gonna happen so... if you were waiting to see teenagers bone haha guess what


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That dude just doesn't give up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the last chapter: https://stygmasans.tumblr.com/post/139696627317/someone-help-this-boy-stygma

* * *

 

You spent the rest of that evening sprawled out on your bed, confused as to why images of glowing eyes and dazzling grins kept popping into your head. You covered your face with your pillow and groaned. Ugh. Stupid brain.

Bzzt.

Oh, that was your phone.

Shane _  
Hey [y/n], I just got word I’m not working tomorrow. Want me to come pick you up after school and we can head down to the lake? _

Aw. You were starting to think he’d forgotten the offer he’d made.

[y/n] _  
That sounds great, Shane. _

Shane _  
You’re off at 3:30 right? _

[y/n] _  
Yep! I’ll meet you out front. _

Shane _  
;) _

Well at least one good thing came out of this day.

* * *

 

Your second periods on Thursday mornings were Home Economics, one of your only normal classes. You only took the course because it looked good to have a variety of electives on your CV, but it really wasn’t a terrible class if you were honest, and you had to admit you liked the teacher, Miss Marpole. You tended to get along better with teachers than you did with students, it seemed.

Actually you’d had a pretty good morning so far, students and all - you’d had first class with Papyrus and after chatting and laughing a bit he’d asked that the two of you exchange numbers so you could hang out more often. Purely platonically, of course. Either way, between adding another number to your phone and looking forward to your outing with Shane, you were pretty sure this was going to turn into a rather pleasant day...

And that’s when you walked in to home ec class to find a skeleton in a blue and white letterman jacket seated directly in front of your regular spot. His head perked up when he heard you enter and a huge grin overtook his face when his eyes met yours. The big idiot had a couple of butterfly bandages over the crack he’d put in his skull walking you home the day before. How did that even work? It was bone, wasn’t it? Who knew. But, between the bandages and his mischievous expression he was almost kind of cu-  _ Ugh _ , did he have his feet up on the desk?! In class!?

Any sympathy you might have had drained away. What a  _ brute. _

You upturned your nose and marched to your usual seat as if you didn’t see him. You weren’t going to let his jerk bully you.

“Mornin’ ice princess.” He sprawled his arm across your desk lazily. Rude.

You reached out and pinched the sleeve of his jacket between your thumb and forefinger as if picking up a piece of trash. Then you lifted his (surprisingly light?) arm from your desk.

“Why do I always seem to be running into you?”

“I go here.”

Hmph.

“I know you’re not enrolled in Home Economics, Sans. I’m here every week and I’ve never once seen you.”

Sans yawned lazily.

“Yeah, ‘cause I skip.” He looked you up and down with one half-open eye. “But what can I say? I suddenly took a, uh, interest in the subject.”

You scowled.

“Well I’m not changing seats.”

Sans looped his hands behind his head, cradling his skull as his eyes closed.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t want to get up.”

You felt like a tea kettle that was about to boil over. You were sure your face must have been beet red. Sans’ eyesockets widened when he got a look at you.

“Woah, don’t go melting on me, ice princess.”

You were seriously considering physical violence when you were saved by the entrance of Miss Marpole.

“Oh, Sans! How lovely to see your shining face gracing our class. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Sans shot her a pair of finger guns. “ _ Heyy _ , just missed you, Miss M.”

Miss Marpole straightened out a stack of papers on her desk, a doubtful expression on her face.

“I see. Well, I’m happy to see you putting in the effort, regardless. Now feet off the table, mister.”

“Whatever you say, Miss M.”

Thank god. Now the back of his big head wouldn’t take up half of your deskspace.

He straightened up and rested his mandible in his hand, looking back just long enough to shoot you a quick smile.

You could hear a pack of girls whispering scandalously behind you, and caught more than a few stares in your direction from across the room.

“Notebooks out, everyone. I’m going to write out directions that you’ll need to copy on your own.”

* * *

 

Class had only been in for about ten minutes before a scrunched up piece of paper flew through the air while Miss Marpole’s back was turned, smacking Sans in the head and landing on his desk. Roused from a half-sleep he pushed his head off his hand and unwrapped the paper.

Against your will your eyes darted down over his shoulder where you could just make out the note. It was written in a looping hand with sparkly gel pen.

_ What are you doing? _

Sans looked at the note and then crumpled it up and shoved it in the desk.

What did that mean?

You waited a few moments and then turned toward the back of the room where you accidentally caught a group of girls staring at you. They quickly averted their eyes and you turned back to the front, hearing their muffled giggles behind you.

...Why did that… hurt your feelings…?

You concentrated back on your notes, your cheeks burning.

The girls had to wait a few moments before they had another chance, but the second the teacher turned her back again you heard another soft  _ plap _ as second piece of paper bounced off Sans’ head.

You looked intentionally this time when Sans uncrumpled the note.

_ Why are you hanging out with  _ _ her _ _? Come sit with us! _

The way the word “her” was written… stung. You put your head down deeper into your notes, hoping to avoid any more attention. You couldn’t help but peel your eyes up to watch how Sans would react, however.

To your horror, Sans turned around to you. Did he notice you were snooping?

“Psst, hey,” he whispered. “Can I borrow a pen?”

Your eyes narrowed but you handed him a one of your blue pens. You hated lending people your pens.

“Thanks kid.”

“Pfft.”

He was so annoying… but you found yourself staring intently over his shoulder. That looked like… an “L”? No, an “H”. God he had atrocious handwriting. You thought maybe you could make it out -

_ Stop hitting me in the head. _

Huh?

Sans then crumpled up the note and dropped his head back into his hand lazily. Then, eyes still closed, his hand began to glow and the note shot up into the air, whizzing past your ear. You heard a small “Ow!” from behind you.

The energy around Sans’ hand dissipated immediately, and when Miss Marpole turned around all she could see was a lazy Sans grinning away sleepily in the front row.

She stared at the class as if suspicious, but then cleared her throat.

“Sans, no sleeping in my class please.”

He roused from his “sleep”.

“Sorry Miss M.” That sounded so innocent. He was  _ good. _

The teacher glared one more time around the class and then turned back to the board.

You shot around curiously and saw Jessica rubbing her forehead and staring daggers at you.

Why did that make you feel good?

Sans handed you the pen back over his shoulder.

“Thanks, babe.”

You took it stupidly.

If Sans had any idea you’d seen what he’d done, he didn’t show it.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I promise the reader self-insert won't be an insufferable jerk forever (and neither will Sans, for that matter).


End file.
